


You can call me Ahab

by captainhurricane



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-24 10:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4916587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snake has hidden away his true name, his true face, his true past. An odd encounter may make him finally deal with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> idk honestly. i just wanted to write Kaz with a fish-tail and i went from that.

There is nothing quite like the sea. No human being had ever evoked the same feelings in Snake; nothing so grand had taken place that it would take his breath away. Not like the sea when he first smelled it, when he first laid his gaze on it. 

They hadn't liked the thought of him all alone in there in his boat, much less him moving to his island all alone. 

”I'll have company,” Snake had said to the companions he had had then. To the family that has by now fallen to ashes.   
”But you'll be alone,” they had said.   
”It's the most I can do to punish myself,” Snake had answered and that had shut them down. 

So alone he lives, in his little island, in his little cabin. Sometimes he takes a man or two with him on his boat, to help him catch bigger fish. To help him move their catch to the mainland markets to be sold. They're nice enough men, they let him simmer in his silence and talk with each other instead. Congratulate Snake on good catches, lament with him when the net comes up half-empty. They don't talk with him about their families, their lives. They don't ask their strange friend of the occasional tightening of his jaw or the horn-like protrusion on his forehead or where he had gotten his fancy prosthetic hand. Must have gone through some shit, one of them remarks to the other when Snake is out of earshot. Yeah, must have, remarks the other. 

And Snake has. What that shit was he keeps well-hidden, all alone in his little island with only the gulls and his dog for company. The dog- who doesn't really have a name- occasionally comes with to the boat and wears his own lifejacket. The only time that Snake's companions see him smile is when he scratches the dog and calls him a good boy.

So it is, the life that the man called Snake has. So it is, the sea and its sounds that always remain closeby. So it has been and so will be, for the sins Snake is punishing himself for are too great and his only redemption will come when his lonely existence comes to a halt. 

Someone had once asked why Snake makes himself such a hermit, why couldn't he just live on the mainland and go fishing from there.   
”I don't deserve to live among those I have wronged,” he had answered, old pain making his slight smile weary. His body remembers torture, his mind remembers that the face he has is not his. 

X

As such things tend to, Snake and his fishermen, two young men in their early thirties, encounter an odd occurrence during one particularly regular afternoon. They've been at sea for five hours now, have gathered almost enough fish for the day. One of the two fishermen, David, is on the last lights of his tobacco, the other man, Jonathan, is pulling on his gloves.   
”I reckon a storm's gonna come soon,” says David. He blows a last smoke ring into the air before stumping his cigarette. Jonathan shrugs and gazes into the horizon.   
”I reckon you're gettin' old, you geezer,” he says and nudges David with his elbow. They both glance at their ever-silent friend, who is sitting at the edge of the deck and smoking his cigar. They know that cigar means Snake is not to be disturbed for he has fallen into his thoughts. 

”Even so, we gotta be leaving home soon. Or Annalis will be dropping me off the boat and fishing herself. She would have but she says she-” David stops, glances at Snake again. Jonathan understand, pats him in the shoulder.   
”Snake's dog is more wild than him,” Jonathan says and snickers when David punches him in the arm and opens his mouth again:   
”Still. I don't blame her for being uncomfortable.”   
”Maybe you need to introduce us finally,” comes a new voice and both fishermen stop before their words could become a full-blown argument. 

Snake has stood up and taken out his cigar, he's rolling up his sleeves and looking rather melancholic in all his scarred glory. The rain has started, tiny drops hitting their faces cold, but soft.   
”Maybe,” David says. They know it's the same conversation as before. All the maybes and never an agreement. Snake never outright rejects the subtle invite to stay on the mainland but he never agrees either. Always that headshake, that gaze into the distance. Someone's hand is pressing on his neck, hard and rough and preventing him from hoping. From thinking about the future. 

”Come on, one last haul,” Jonathan says after a moment of awkward silence.

One last net to be raised is a little further away so they set sail on their little boat. Snake shields his face from the gentle rain- like it could hurt him, David steers and Jonathan stares ahead, readies himself.   
”Ready?”   
”Up, up-”  
”Shit, it's heavy-”   
They pull and pull. The net is heavy and full, the rain glitters on the backs of dozens of tiny steel-grey backs. The flash of glacier-blue and deep red is what gets their attention.   
”What the hell is it?”   
They pull and pull. The rain goes down harder.   
”There's a... Jesus Christ, it's a-”  
”There's a person in the net!” 

They pull and they pull and finally the heavy load is on the deck. The tiny fishes twitch and flinch, dozens of tiny mouths gasping. In the middle of the tangled net, in the middle of the fishes, is a long, long glacier-blue fish-tail but more grand, more shining than anything they've seen. The tail is connected to what is unmistakably a human torso, despite the blue scales on the sides and the lack of nipples and bellybutton. The deep red is from the heavy gash across one scaly army.  
”What the fuck,” David repeats. Again and again. Jonathan's eyes are wide. Snake frowns, wipes water from his face.   
”Is it dead?” Jonathan asks, all professionalism, all intent on going home gone and forgotten. Mermaids- or in this case, mermen had always been the stuff of stories, of fairytales. Who knew that one would wander into their net? 

Snake is the first to crouch by the prone body, to gently turn the creature on his back. The face is human-like, except the blue scales continue to his cheeks and to his temples. The hair, if it can be called that, is blond and reminiscent of an underwater plant. The eyes are closed, the mouth is opening and closing, much the same way as the fishes.   
”No. Not dead,” Snake murmurs. The creature stirs, lets out a groan of pain. 

”Oh shit,” David says and now both younger men crouch by Snake, all of their hands reaching to untangle the merman from his trap. The long, powerful tail twitches and flaps weakly against the deck.   
”His skin is so cold,” Snake says, almost dreamily as they manage to free the merman. He still does nothing except let out small, twitchy groans of pain.   
”Quick, inside the cabin!”  
”Look at his gills, man,” Jonathan says, still confused and amazed, cheeks flushed in the dog weather. The said gills are placed on the merman's side, they move slowly. Yet the creature isn't dead.   
”Shouldn't he be in the water?” David worries and follows as Snake takes the injured merman into his arms and carries him to the cabin of their boat. 

”Getting water everywhere,” Snake murmurs but lays the merman down on the small bench tucked against one side of the cabin.   
”We're not going home in this weather. Maybe we should take care of him first and then wait for this rain to pass,” Jonathan says, finally overcome his momentary speechlessness and followed the other two to the cabin. With all four of them, it's pretty crowded but they don't mind. Snake is already hands deep in the locker under the bench, looking for their packs of bandages.   
”David, Jon, we should anchor ourselves here,” he says, eyes on the bandages and on the sharply breathing merman.   
”Does he have lungs?” Jonathan asks but is shushed away from the cabin by the wet and shivering David. 

”Why would a merman have lungs?” Snake murmurs quietly as he takes off his glove, silently apologizes for his cold hands to the merman before taking the bleeding, injured arm between his own. Only then the merman opens his eyes and screeches. It's a piercing, shrill sound but Snake recognizes fear when he hears it.  
”Hey, hey, hey,” he reaches for the trashing merman and forces him to lay down, puts gentle pressure on the cold, slippery shoulders. The eyes staring back at him are shaped much like a humans but they're hazy white, like someone had pulled a thin white curtain over a cloudless summer sky. The merman whines, a more humanlike sound than Snake had expected and it gives him a pause. 

”I'm not here to hurt you,” Snake says, never mind that he's wet, the creature is wet and there's blood and water all over.   
”Sssh, sssh.” The merman hisses, mouth opening, mouth closing. His teeth are sharper than a human's, his tongue longer and more elongated. He seems to struggle, like trying to speak. Snake hushes him again and only retreats his hands when the merman seems to accept his fate. Even lets his arm be taken between Snake's own. 

”Snake, what the-” David peeks into the cabin, water dripping from the yellow hood of his rainjacket. Snake doesn't even look at him, too intent on his work to wrapping up the creature's arm. The creature stares at him, breathing hard.   
”It's fine,” Snake says, hushing again when the merman notices David, turning to stare at him.   
”Please resume what you were doing. This... person is badly injured and needs rest. He obviously has a distrust of others who are not like him.” David grumbles but removes himself from the doorway. Snake huffs. Much like a human, right? 

”I don't know if this even helps you,” Snake says, brushes his rough fingers over the merman's. The slender, pale blue fingers are connected by a thin strip of pale skin. The merman breaths hard and stares at him. His tail flaps wetly against the floor.   
”But I am your friend even though I did not believe you existed a minute ago.” The merman huffs. His lips are pale blue and thin. If he smiled, he would look like a normal human man. 

Snake is entranced. He had always accepted things as they come and go, like the sun rising and sun setting everyday. That his past is what it is. That a creature born out of seamen's stories could be true and laying right in front of his eyes. A human torso connected to a fish tail.   
”Do you have lungs?” Snake repeats Jonathan's question, curious. He withdraws his hands, doesn't touch the merman otherwise. The merman stares. His chest rises and falls. The gills don't move.   
”I guess you do,” Snake wonders, eyes travelling down the merman's body. Now that he looks closer, the paleness has a faint blue tint, the blond hair slicked back truly looks like just hair.   
”And you bleed red. You're quite something.” 

The merman makes a sound, not quite a word but close enough. It's like his lips and tongue should know the way but can't quite manage it. It frustrates him, as his thin, pale blond eyebrows draw together in a clear frown.   
”It's fine if you can't talk right now,” Snake murmurs and can't quite stop himself from placing a hand- his flesh one, not the one made of metal and currently curled on his own lap- on the scaly shoulder. The creature stills, tenses. But doesn't yank himself away.   
”You'll talk later if you want. Or not. We could return you to the sea. Or.. take you home with me.”


	2. Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snake learns some new things about his new friend.

The rain doesn't let up. Thankfully Snake's cabin has a lot of room so David and Jonathan stay over and help him with their newest companion. The wounded merman lashes out at them and screeches that inhuman screech few times more but seems to calm down when they lay him in Snake's bathtub filled with cool water. In the electric light, the merman's scales seem duller in colour, his odd hazy eyes almost completely white. 

”Are you sure this is smart?” David asks, always the most cautious of them. He scratches his blond beard and doesn't seem to let the worried frown from his face disappear. His wife must be going out of her mind since he promised to be back.   
”That ain't no fish I've ever seen,” he continues. 

Snake huffs as he stands up from beside the bathtub. Even he, intimidating as he is, looks much less like a fearsome demon and much more just a scarred man in the bathroom lights. The merman follows him with his white gaze.   
”Dumping him back to the ocean seems like a worse idea, right?” David shrugs but glances at the merman who stares back without any humane expression on its odd human face. 

”I guess. It'd be better if he could speak though. Jesus Christ this is so weird. I liked stories about merpeople as much as anyone growing up by the sea but they were just stories,” David grumbles and Snake pats his back as they leave the bathroom. 

Water sloshes behind their backs as the merman shifts, closes his eyes. What goes through the mind of such a being? 

The rain goes on. 

The men share drinks by the fireplace. Jonathan shares a story. David brings out the chesspieces. They play. 

At some point in warm drunken haze Snake finds himself the only one awake, Jonathan flopped on the couch and David in the armchair, both snoring. Snake huffs and covers both of them with a blanket before standing up. He scratches his chest and yawns. 

Water sloshes. A noise. 

”Better check on him,” Snake murmurs and walks to the bathroom, his bare feet making no sound. The merman has moved to lay his healthy arm on the side of the bathtub, his eyes on the doorway. When Snake appears, the merman straightens, opens his mouth.   
”S-” he starts, but his tongue slips by his lips and he closes them again. Like this, he seems more human. His pale skin gaining a flush of colour. 

”Hmm?” Snake kneels by the tub, rolls up his sleeves.   
”We would have put you back to the sea but you didn't seem like you could swim or protect yourself,” Snake says quietly, reaches for the merman's hand like it was the most natural thing to do.   
”Ssss,” hisses the merman and lets him. 

The hand is still pale blue, the thin strip of skin between fingers still remains but Snake clutches it between his anyway. It's warmer now, only slightly smaller than his. Snake doesn't feel like filling the silence so he stays quiet, rubs the damp skin with his thumbs gently. Watches that intriguing face and realizes with a start that the teeth that were pointy and sharp in the raging sea now look smaller, straighter. 

The tongue flicks by thin, pale lips again.   
”S-Sn-” a pause, a swallow. A twitch, perhaps of pain. The bandage really needs to be changed. The merman fills his lungs with air. Snake watches him, watches those cloudy eyes.   
”Snake. That's right,” he finds himself murmuring. Entranced by whatever spell the merman had put him under. The merman's fingers curl around his metal ones.   
”k- S-Snake,” the merman swallows, pauses. 

”Snake.” It finally comes, his name said in that whispery, low voice. Like the merman can speak but his tongue and lips are just not used to. Snake stills, even as the merman leans closer to him. His ears pick up a sloshing, sliding sound and then, the pale fingers between his transform. The thin strip of skin slides back inside the palm, the scales recede to be just around the merman's arms. It's a human hand then, unmistakably that squeezes his. 

Snake has to close his eye for a moment as the sounds of breaking glass from his past pierce his ears. The whirr of a tape recorder. Of his reflection looking back at him with a different face. 

”Snake,” whispers the merman.   
”Interesting,” Snake says, raises his head. He tries on a smile but it's a little crooked. Drops of water hit his hands from the merman's face and hair.   
”I can,” the merman says, clicks his tongue. Tilts his head. Like listening. His hazy eyes stay on Snake, unnervingly beautiful.   
”Speak your language.” The words come slow, carefully articulated but they're in clear English. Snake huffs, almost amused at how little it surprises him.   
”I noticed,” Snake murmurs. The hand between his squeezes his fingers again but doesn't withdraw. The skin is still damp but the bumps made by the scales are gone. 

”How?” Snake rubs the merman's hand with his thumbs, careful and gentle. The merman's gaze flickers down.  
”I listen,” he whispers and shifts in the tub. Some water sloshes on Snake but he doesn't care. It's not the first time he's gotten wet. When the merman doesn't say more, Snake finds himself in the odd position of being the talkative one. He clears his throat when the merman slips his fingers from Snake's grasp to start poking at Snake's prosthetic. 

”It's a prosthetic,” Snake says, rather uselessly. The merman huffs, lifts one metal finger curiously.   
”Like flesh, yet not flesh” the merman murmurs. Snake wants to look at him more. Listen to him more. This close, especially after doing his odd little transformation, he seems more and more just like a human man. One made of ocean waves and windy days. Snake watches that face and its tiny expressions, watches as that pale hand turns his prosthetic around, pokes at joints and caresses the chrome palm. 

”Do you...” the merman searches for words. They come carefully, he searches for each word with a tilt of his head and tip of his tongue on his lips.   
”feel this?” His abnormally long fingertip caresses Snake's metallic fingers. Snake nods.   
”It's partly connected to my nervous system. I can't feel pain on it, though. But I feel if something presses against it.” The merman stills but doesn't withdraw his hand. He shifts, leans closer, his elbows on the edge of the tub.   
”And-” the word hisses in the merman's mouth, his eyes on Snake's. One pale finger points at the horn.   
”That? I have never seen such a-” tilt of the head, a frown, ”-thing. Yes.” 

Snake opens his mouth to speak but then the merman touches the shrapnel and Snake's mind explodes in colours, in sounds, he groans and the merman switches into someone else, the room around him becomes bloodred. He hears gunfire. Someone calling his name. Someone's hands on his face, touching and caressing. A kiss that's brief but burns him to the core. 

Fire in the ocean. 

X

When Snake comes to, it takes him a moment to realize the faces in front of him aren't hallucinations. A weary-looking David and a thoroughly hungover Jonathan are peeking up at him and the sloshing of water tells Snake that the merman is closeby as well, perhaps listening in. Snake is laying on the bathroom floor, a pillow under his head. The bathroom-lights are closed, the only lights coming from the living room, illuminating his friends' faces. 

”Snake?”   
”You hit your head pretty hard.” David and Jonathan look at each other, both frowning. Then they gaze back down. Snake grunts, hand on his forehead.  
”Ssssnake,” hisses the merman behind them. The reaction of David and Jonathan would be amusing if Snake's head wasn't throbbing. He closes his eye as everything swims in his vision. 

”He can speak?” Whispers David's voice, amazed. Jonathan's answer is unheard.   
”Yes,” the merman murmurs. More water sloshes, some splash on Snake. He huffs, wipes water from his face.   
”Careful there,” he mutters, throwing his arm over his face.   
”Did you know he can speak? And besides, did he always look like that?” David doesn't seem to mind that just a couple of hours ago he was mind-bogglingly drunk. Jonathan grunts, sways. He wants to go back to sleep. Both look at the merman who has laid his arms on the edge of the bathtub and stares at them. His pale eyes glimmer slightly in the dim twilight of the room. 

”My mouth has the same abilities as yours,” come the slowly murmured words once more. His voice is like the ocean waves. Snake smiles to himself at the warmth it brings in his chest. David snorts, winces when by the sound of it, Jonathan punches him in the arm.   
”Ow, what the fu-”   
”I know what you were gonna say, weirdo. Let's go back to sleep. Snake can drag his ass to bed since he seems to be fine,” Jonathan grumbles. Snake raises his head just enough to see Jonathan throw an arm around David's shoulders and take him back to the living-room. 

One more look and it tells Snake that the merman is watching him.   
”Do you sleep?” Snake lets his head flop back down on the pillow, watching that glimmering pair of eyes. The merman hasn't blinked.   
”Merpeople don't.. sleep. Like you do,” comes the slow, careful answer.   
”We listen to the ocean,” the merman continues. Snake huffs, but brings himself closer to the tub, turning on his side. He keeps his eye closed.   
”I have loved the ocean ever since I was a boy,” Snake murmurs, ears full of the gentle sloshing of water. He doesn't react when fingers descend to his hair. They may be damp, but they have been warmed up by the room temperature, by whatever transformation the merman forced himself to go through.  
”And the ocean has loved you,” the merman's curiously melancholic words are the ones that drag Snake to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... this became a three-parter whoops (or a four-parter idk. but i love this AU tbh)


	3. Then there were us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connection is made. A fade to black.

The morning finds both Jonathan and David gone, left with their share and a note saying only one thing: Think about what you're doing, Snake. Please. Snake crumbles it in his hand and throws it into the dying embers of the fireplace. The cabin is cold. The rain patters against the windows. The merman dozes off under the surface, eyes closed and only the bubbles rising to the surface tell Snake he's even alive. Snake doesn't try to wake him, instead washes his teeth and trims his beard, smiling at how the tip of the merman's tail flops over the edge of the tub. Then it's time to start making breakfast, while sneezing furiously.  
”Dammit,” he murmurs and listens to the distant rumble of thunder. No use going out today then. Snake sneezes again and kneels by the fireplace to start the fire. He should call someone to check up on the heating, it's going to be hell in winter like this but the phoneline rarely works well during storms. Snake rubs his forehead and returns to the kitchen, humming a song he had heard long ago as he makes eggs and puts on the coffee machine. He picks up the half-burnt cigar and shrugs as he lights it again, inhaling that musky, dark scent. The humming continues, muffled. 

It takes him a moment to realize his humming has an echo. 

Snake's spatula-holding hand stops. He raises his head. The echo continues, melodious and melancholic. The storm comes closer.   
”Is it you?” Snake asks the empty air and puts out the cigar. The water sloshes in his bathroom. Snake readies the eggs and turns off the stove before going to check on his unlikely companion. Indeed, the merman stares at him from the dim light.   
”S-sSnake,” comes the hissing voice.   
”I don't know if you eat,” Snake says and comes closer to crouch by the tub. The merman reaches for him, his hands damp and cool. Some water drops to Snake's trousers but he cares little.   
”Or what you eat,” Snake continues, scratches his beard with his prosthetic. The merman huffs.   
”I eat. More than just fish, odd human man.” 

Snake had always heard of sirens, the mermaids luring the seamen to their deaths and he believes those now. The merman has a melody in his voice, like a song is in each of his words.   
”Human food isn't necessarily suitable for me,” the merman says, strokes Snake's hand with his own.   
”I need it raw.” Snake, entranced, nods.   
”I have loads of raw fish. I'm gonna get some for you.” The merman hums, brings Snake's hand closer to his mouth and kisses the pulse. His lips are very cold, very blue. Snake huffs and doesn't pull his hand away but he has to ask, a little confused, a little amused:   
”Why did you do that?” The merman looks him in the eye, leans forward.   
”You are very warm, Snake,” he says. His tongue is oddly colourless as it flicks over his lips.   
”It is... intriguing.” Snake squeezes the pale, smaller hand, presses his chapped lips against it in return.   
”And you are very cold.” 

This time, the merman lets out an unmistakable chuckle.   
”I have a name,” he says all of a sudden and pulls his hand away, straightens in the tub. His tail splashes lazily. Snake raises an eyebrow. The merman lets out a garbled, watery sound. Snake blinks. The merman chuckles again.  
”I cannot pronounce it in human tongue. But... I had a friend once. Among your people,” he continues, slips wet hands through his fine strands.   
”We were both on a, what is the word, a mission? Yes. A mission. I was Kazuhira to him. It means-”   
”Peace,” Snake concludes, smiling a little. He had known a girl whose name had meant the same long ago. The foreign word on the merman's tongue sounds all the more beautiful, even as he tilts his head and laughs, revealing how sharp his teeth are yet again. Yet Snake doesn't find him fearsome, wants to know more.  
”You may call me Kaz, Snake.” As ever, the letter z comes out like a hiss, a fine little buzzing sound that makes Snake's mouth twist into a soft smile.   
”Alright, Kaz,” he says and likes how the merman smiles back.   
”How would you like to join me in the living-room? I don't care if you get the place wet, it's just water.” 

Kaz reveals his teeth and nods. Some intimacy of the moment vanishes when Snake stands up.   
”I have another washing tub in my backroom, I'll put it in the living room for you.” Snake's stomach growls so he pours himself a cup of coffee and sips it before getting the tub. It's not really meant for humans but then again, Kaz isn't human so maybe he doesn't mind the fish smell. Humming still as Snake puts the tub in the living room and gets three towels, he doesn't hear the sloshing from the bathroom. Especially when he starts to fill a bucket with water.   
”Oh,” Snake says as he returns to the living room to find Kaz pulling himself to the tub, inspecting it with interest.   
”You know, I don't need to be in water every second,” Kaz murmurs but smiles his toothy   
smile as Snake empties the bucket and goes to get another one.

”But you still need it,” Snake says. Kaz shrugs, presses his face into the water and lets out that odd, amused huff once more.  
”Yes. If I were older- more powerful, I could perhaps not need it at all. Might even have legs like yours but I am rather young.” Snake watches him as he leans against the tube.  
”Oh. How's your arm? Does it hurt?” The bandage is wet and stuck to the cool skin but Kaz doesn't seem bothered by it. He shakes his head and starts peeling the bandage off.  
”I think it looked worse than it actually is, Snake. I can take it off myself, get me some food.” The corner of Snake's eye crinkles in amusement but he says nothing as he goes to get the promised fish. Thankfully they hadn't finished processing all of them yet and had put a few in the fridge so all Snake has to do is to grab the box and take them to Kaz. Who has managed to peel off the bandage entirely and start inspecting the wound. 

”Thank you,” Kaz says and takes the fish. Snake murmurs a quiet excuse me and presses his fingers gently on the arm. The cut is long but it's not deep and already closing completely.   
”Are you merpeople generally able to heal cuts this fast?” Kaz chomps on a fish and murmurs something garbled and muffled. Snake pulls away. Kaz swallows, wipes his mouth as he pulls the fishbones from his mouth, as well as its head. Kaz makes a face.   
”Yes. Once again, if I were older, I could do it instantly.” Snake huffs.  
”Let me get my food and we can talk more.” 

Kaz continues chomping and chewing, clearly rather hungry. Yet he's meticulous and rather neat about it, takes each tiny fish apart with careful fingers. Snake watches him for a second then shakes his head, sits down on the couch to eat his eggs and drink coffee. The fire crackles. The rain pitter-patters. It's almost domestic.   
”You-” Kaz says as he swallows once again and wipes his mouth.   
”Are a very curious man.”   
Snake swallows the last of his eggs.   
”You are the first merperson I have ever met,” he says casually and shrugs. Kaz hums.   
”I- we are meant to stay out of human eyes. But you can't blame the young ones being curious.” Kaz shifts uncomfortably, scratching his head in such a human-like gesture that Snake has to drink his coffee to hide his smile. No matter if Kaz's torso ends in a fishtail, there's no denying there is something otherworldly and beautiful about him.   
”And you?” Snake asks, turning on the TV.   
”And me,” Kaz says.   
”Could I have a taste?”   
”Of what?” Snake glances at his companion. Kaz watches him, arm reached towards him.   
”The drink.”   
”It's coffee. It's rather hot.” Kaz hums, doesn't seem to mind that Snake crouches by him to help him take a sip. Kaz makes a face so comical Snake snorts.   
”It is hot, I told you.”   
”It's... I don't know the word.” Snake takes the cup back.   
”Bitter?” Snake says, sits back on the couch but his attention is not on the TV. Kaz nods and submerges his entire head for a moment in the tub before coming out again.   
”If only you could drink what my companions drink. Or taste the water like it dances on our tongues,” Kaz murmurs. Water falls in droplets on his face. He beckons. Snake crouches by him, takes his hand.   
”But as it is, you cannot taste it like I cannot have the same warmth as you,” Kaz continues and this time both of his hands are held in Snake's, their eyes locked on each other.   
”I only feel warm, Kaz,” Snake says, strokes the pale skin with his thumbs.  
”It's cold and dead inside me.”

He is not a good man. He is a shadow of a good man. Often Snake doesn't even feel like a real person. 

”When I said curiousity drives the young ones from our lands, I didn't lie. When I said it was the reason I am here, I lied,” Kaz says then, the words coming even more slowly now, stuttered, oddly uncertain. His eyes are wide.   
”I am exiled and betrayed. I have nothing and nowhere to go. And all because... I wanted to be a human.”   
Snake doesn't find the words to comfort, to say anything.   
”It's cold and dead inside me too,” Kaz murmurs and doesn't move as Snake takes the initiative to kiss his thin, blue lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nah. no porn. it didn't feel like the right thing to add in what became rather melancholy. iknow i'm awful with endings


End file.
